


How he broke through Hell

by Lily_Alice_Adams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Claustrophobia, Coffin task, Father-Son Relationship, He kind of knows what he's doing, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Teen Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2419490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_Alice_Adams/pseuds/Lily_Alice_Adams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean learns how to break through coffins, except he doesn't want to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How he broke through Hell

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't really sure how to tag this. If I missed anything that is important, tell me and I'll change it, thanks.

The coffin was small, John said he wouldn't ever be given a bigger one. Turning sixteen a few days ago, he was allowed to do bigger tasks, challenges his father set to make him the best soldier. He whimpered seeing the dug hole with an open wooden coffin in the tight centre, he got slapped on the back of his head. 

Panic started to set in as he was pushed closer to the edge of the dirty hill created by John while Dean was making Sam lunch. His father told him to jump in and lay down, like it was that easy. He was beginning to question whether he would ever leave. 

As his feet slammed against the old wood his breath hitched in panic. His eyes widen, he looked at John with tearful but pleading eyes. The tension in his gut made the vomit in his throat escape and his legs to run away. 

The being order from his father seemed to silent, he watched the unshaven jaw bounce uncontrollably as he made the words, but it fell on deaf ears. He wanted to beg, cry and run away. Coffins are for dead people, he wasn't dead, why does he need to do this? 

With shaking legs and staying palms, he slowly settled on his back. The harsh wood was giving his back pain, his cries were ignored as his father threw a lighter into the coffin, landing it on Dean's chest. 

The boy grasped it with shaking hands as a beg fell from his lips. "Please. I....I can't." Through crying eyes, he saw his father look away, contemplating letting Dean out. 

He didn't look at his son as he locked the lid shut, Dean let out a loud cry, no longer silencing himself. His balled fists came to his face, covering his closed eyes. If he couldn't see what's going on, it's not happening. 

He was so wrong. 

Hearing the sound of slow dirt like above the wood shook his body violently. It was all too much, all too soon. Small pieces of dry dirt fell through the gaps in the wood and onto his wet face and hands. It was shaming him, even the dirt knew it was above Dean. The hunter who couldn't be put in a coffin. 

He was too much of a coward to be like his dad, he couldn't be like such a brave man. This was why Dean followed orders when given, his father could have done this and then broke out in seconds. 

The air became like water as he choked violently to catch his breath that never seemed to get closer. More tears fell from his face, it was so dark in here. 

He waited like he should for his father to stop putting on more dirt and for the footsteps to leave. It took what felt like an eternity for him to be able to start working on getting out. It finally happened, and he was finally able to use the old lighter his father had given him before leaving. 

It fell into his face twice before he was able to successfully light it and illuminate the small space around him. He wiped his face with his dirty hands, it was pointless as the tears didn't stop. Why was he so weak? 

The sudden realisation that Sam was always stronger than him fell onto his already too heavy chest. He was always there for Dean, he was a child and he supported Dean. No more, it was wrong. He would be a man and love and care for his brother more than he had before. 

Instead of scratching the wood, he pushed it with his palms. Splinters pushed through the soft skin of his palm in an attempt to keep Dean here. It was working, it was too heavy. He fell back against the wood at the base with a harsh thump and another whimper.  
He closed the lighter, making the coffin pitch black. His fear leave doubled, triples even. His breath hitches violently once again, but it didn't stop him, he pushed harder against the creaking wood. Never did Dean stop to brush away his tears, he felt them to stain his cheeks with failure as a reminder of why he was in here. 

Turning his feet upwards, he began to push at the same time as his feet. Slowly, he felt the door give way, however, the burning of his thighs and arms made it a slower process and told him what muscles he needed to build for when this happens to him. 

The up just of the door let a bucket of dirt fall onto his face. He began to panic, forgetting that would have to happen. The door fell back down. He wiped the dirt away from his eyes and mouth before opening it again. 

This time it was easier, the burn turns into a harsh pull on his body. The door fell open and he gulped the fresh air in large lung fills. It had never tasted so sweet. 

He saw his father standing above him, didn't he walk away? A large claw came down and captured Dean's arm, pulling him up and away from the coffin. He fell into a hot hug from his father holding him against his chest. 

Dean knew he wouldn't get this affection often and accepted it with open arms. He forced himself to stop crying, to stop his panicking as his father was here. He wanted nothing more than to impress him. 

As Dean felt his dad pull away, he kept a strong face. "Put me back in, properly this time. I want to see if I can do it under five minutes." The pain and suffering he is going to go through will be so worth it as he sees his father smile widely after looking sceptical. 

A large hand rested on his jaw and the other held his dirty hand. "That's my boy." He spoke softly, pride running through his tone, along side happiness. Dean would do anything for his father, if it meant he would have a panic attack after panic and more nightmares, that's okay. 

He placed a soft kiss to Dean's head, almost too soft to feel. Dean's heart stops for a second, it was better than him saying 'I love you.' He was finally accepted by his dad.


End file.
